


Tourist attraction

by errantknightess



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkward Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Pining, Prompto aggressively trying to make sure Noct has a good time, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, tour guides
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:40:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22636918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/errantknightess/pseuds/errantknightess
Summary: Prompto makes his living as a tour guide, showing people the beautiful views of Altissia. But what if the most beautiful view happens to be one of his own clients?
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 30
Kudos: 184





	Tourist attraction

**Author's Note:**

> It took stupidly long, but here's my fic for the FFXV Minibang.

Prompto loves his job.

He repeats that to himself at least seven times as he paces nervously in front of the Leville. The street is empty and quiet in the yellowing morning light; only a few windows light up through the fog lifting from the canal. He’s there early – way too early. But he couldn’t sleep well anyway.

He’s spent half of the night double- and triple-checking all the bookings, and the other half twisting and turning in his bed. After the last few clients got picky and complained about every little detail in his feedback card, he really can’t afford any mistakes. If he blows this job… Well, there’s no shortage of qualified tourist guides in Altissia waiting to jump in his place.

His stomach pinches, half with the nerves and half at the warm smells wafting from the bakery across the street. Prompto shoots the storefront a longing look. He hardly ate breakfast, but now’s not the time for snacks. It wouldn’t be very professional to let his group catch him with his mouth stuffed and crumbs all over his shirt. He needs to make a good impression – and those guys seemed hard to impress.

He spares one last glance at the bakery window, pausing for a moment on his reflection. His hair still looks as if he’s just rolled out of bed. He smooths down his bangs and picks at his cowlick in a doomed attempt to tame it. On the other side of the glass, the shopkeeper gives him a weird look. Prompto turns around, embarrassment clenching his gut even tighter.

It doesn’t get any better when he spots his group filing out of the hotel lobby.

Prompto darts to greet them, nearly faceplanting onto the pavement as his foot catches on the curb. He steadies himself quickly and looks up at the three men, seeking out the one he’s spoken with when he picked them up from the ferry dock last night.

“Good morning, Mr Scientia,” he calls.

“Ignis.” The man offers him a firm handshake. “Please, no need for formalities.”

Even as he says that, his sharp eyes seem to judge Prompto’s every move behind the glasses.

“Right! You’re on vacation, after all.” Prompto laughs, trying not to show just how unnerving this gaze is. He’s not sure how well it’s working, so he throws on a chipper tone and launches into his usual spiel. “Welcome to Altissia! My name is Prompto and I’ll have the pleasure of showing you around the city for the time of your stay. There’s a lot to see, so I hope you all had a good rest after your travel.”

“Sure did.” The behemoth of a man next to Ignis grins. “Nothing’s better for a good night’s sleep than fresh ocean air. I’m Gladiolus, by the way, and this is— oh, come on, show some manners for once.”

The third guy’s glare makes it clear that he’d rather hang back, but he gets no say in the matter as Gladiolus nudges him forward with the force of a charging garula. Prompto holds out his hand, ready to break the ice with a witty quip and a friendly smile.

Both freeze on his lips, and all it takes is one look at the guy.

He looks vaguely familiar, in the same way all leading blockbuster actors look alike. It’s the kind of face Prompto would expect to see on TV, or in a glossy magazine. Instead, it’s right here, right in front of him, fixing him with a dull stare of icy blue eyes.

Prompto holds that gaze -- only because he’s too struck to move.

“I’m Noct—” the guy says, wincing as he takes Prompto’s hand. Prompto isn’t sure if that’s directed at him, or if it’s because Gladiolus has stepped on Noct’s foot just then.

Their handshake is a jerky twitch of the fingers that shocks through Prompto like an electric spark.

Then Noct pulls his hand back, still with the same sour look on his face. Prompto’s palm feels sweaty and gross all of a sudden. He’s only just got here, and he’s already messed up somehow. And he has no idea how to fix it, because he doesn’t even know what he did to bother this guy in the first place.

_Great_.

“All right!” Prompto smiles over the rising anxiety, manhandling it to the back of his brain as best he can before it completely runs off the rails. “If everyone’s ready,” _oh gods, he’s not ready_ , “let’s get going!”

He leads his group along the canal, past the damn tantalizing bakery and a few posh shops that don’t open until later in the day. At this hour, the city is pretty dead. Peaceful. Nothing to interrupt the gentle rustle of the water and the birds chirping on the windowsills overhead.

By the time they veer off further into the narrow streets, this silence starts to get awkward.

“So.” Prompto almost winces at how loud his voice rings out in it. “Is this you guys’ first time in Altissia?”

He can’t help looking mostly at Noct as he asks that, but Noct doesn’t give much in the way of a reply. All Prompto gets is a groan, hard to read and hard to catch even in the lull around them.

“You could say that.” Gladiolus takes pity on the conversation. “I’ve been here once as a kid, but I don’t remember much. And I guess a lot has changed, anyway, so I’m just as new to this as these two.”

“It’s always fun to guide first-timers,” Prompto admits. “How do you like it here so far?”

“Very much, indeed,” Ignis chimes in. Along the way, his expression has lost some of its edge and seriousness. “It’s quite a striking experience, especially for our first trip outside of Insomnia.”

“Oh, so you guys are from Lucis! This must be a bit of a culture shock, huh?” Prompto rolls on cheerfully. “I’ve only passed through Galdin Quay a few times, but even this close to the border it already feels so different!”

“It’s different all right.” Gladiolus nods. “This is the most laid-back capital I’ve ever seen. Insomnia gets crazy at this hour, the traffic would sweep you off your feet.”

Prompto chuckles. “No wonder you wanted to get away for a while! Good thing you came at the end of the season. It can get pretty busy here early in the summer, too – though I guess still not as much.”

He keeps stealing hopeful glances at Noct as he blabs, silently prodding him to join the conversation. No luck. Noct won’t even look his way, eyes fixed on the cobblestones under his feet. Prompto bites on his lip and tries to swallow through the sting of rejection burning in his chest.

What did he expect? Of course a guy like this wouldn’t talk to him.

Before he can spiral further into insecurity, they come out from the narrow street and into the open space. The plaza sprawls wide and long under the clear sky, cut in half with the vast shadow of the cathedral in front of them. The sun casts a golden glow off the white marble, giving a halo to the statues on the facade.

“And here we are.” Prompto makes a sweeping gesture, glad to have his thoughts turned onto another track. “The Sanctuary of the Tidemother. Her main shrine was originally the altar at the Celluna Cascades – so ancient that we don’t even know when it was built… And that’s why we don’t get to go see it anymore. The access has been restricted for four centuries now, and the cathedral here was constructed to serve as a new place of worship. So it’ll have to do, but I promise it’s not a bad tradeoff. Come on and see!”

As they cross the plaza and mount the stairs leading to the front entrance, he tells them more about the building and its architectural details. He could recite it all in his sleep; it’s a lecture he’s given hundreds of times. But this time, it’s like he’s back in history class, sweating at the blackboard. And this time, his grade might very well cost him his job.

Fortunately, his nervous stammering doesn’t seem to bother his clients for now. At least Ignis and Gladiolus are listening patiently. With Noct, it’s hard to tell. His face is like the stone figures lining the facade: smooth, regular, pale and carefully expressionless.

Until it breaks, and scrunches up, and Noct lets out a massive yawn, poorly hidden behind his open hand.

Prompto’s heart sinks.

Good going. Will he get charged with manslaughter if he bores this guy to death?

Noct yawns again, a little more discreetly. Gladiolus jabs him with his elbow.

“Stay awake, Princess.”

“ _Princess?_ ” Noct snorts, jabbing him right back. “I thought we were supposed to be here in—”

“In good spirits, yes,” Ignis cuts him off harshly. ”So would the two of you please stop your bickering? Especially in front of our guide?” He shoots Prompto a pointed look that makes him shrink even though it’s not him being reprimanded.

“It’s fine,” Prompto says quickly. “I guess history isn’t everyone’s thing, huh.”

For a second, Noct’s face goes from blank to slack with confusion.

“What? No, it’s not that!” His protest melts into another yawn, and as he rubs at his watering eyes, he gives Prompto a look that’s almost sheepish. “Sorry. I don’t really… do mornings. Go on, it’s interesting.”

“Oh.” Prompto smiles, the first easy smile today. The shift in Noct’s attitude is like a pull of a lever, lifting the weight that’s settled in his stomach since the beginning.

And it’s not just the relief of doing his job right.

He rides that wave while it’s there. “All right, so – how about we go inside?”

“Sounds good,” Gladiolus agrees. “Maybe we can find some cosy nook for the Sleeping Beauty to nap in.”

“Shut up.” Noct rolls his eyes in an exaggerated way that can’t be anything other than playful. “I’ll drown you in the cleansing basin.”

“Oh, so you’ve heard about the basin?” Prompto picks up, pleasantly surprised. “It’s a precious artefact, but not very well known outside of Accordo.”

“I’ve seen pictures in my history book,” Noct admits. “Looked pretty cool, so it kind of stuck in my mind.”

“At least something did,” Ignis mutters.

“Seriously, cut it out,” Noct groans. He isn’t sullen anymore. He looks like a kitten that’s got flicked on the nose. Which probably isn’t a very professional thought to have about a client. Prompto can’t believe he’s ever thought for a moment that this cute guy could be an asshole.

They only stop their bickering as they cross the threshold. The dim quiet of the temple wraps around them like a heavy veil, soaked with the smell of dust and incense. Prompto likes coming here. It always helps calm his nerves.

Except today, the play of light on Noct’s face as he stands under the stained glass window only makes them worse.

* * *

If Prompto thought it would all be smooth sailing from now on, he’s been sorely mistaken.

There’s been _some_ progress. For the most part, Noct pays more attention, and even shows some interest in whatever Prompto says. Still, it’s not any easier to engage him in conversation. His replies are scarce and short, hesitant in an achingly familiar way. But well, sharing the same anxiety of talking to people doesn’t exactly help Prompto break that wall down.

It turns out Noct really doesn’t mix well with mornings – or with any other time of day, apparently. As the week goes on, it becomes more and more evident that he desperately needs this vacation. Grogginess seems to be his natural state. He tires easily. A couple times, Prompto even catches him limping on the countless flights of stairs they traverse.

Noct clearly doesn’t like calling attention to it. He never asks for breaks, brushing off his friends’ concerns with embarrassed impatience. Prompto catches on quickly and adjusts the pace. It’s unsuspicious enough to excuse the frequent rest stops with photo ops and chances to admire the view – after all, that’s why they're here.

But he can only do so much.

The more he watches Noct, the more he sees that. There’s something that runs even deeper underneath all this bone-deep exhaustion. Most people go on vacation to get away from everyday problems; Noct looks like he’s brought them all with him and still hasn’t unpacked.

And yeah, okay, maybe Prompto watches him a little more than he should. A _lot_ more, actually. It’s hard to stop himself. Noct pulls him in like the moon tugs on the ocean tides. And he can easily get away with staring, because as much as it pains to admit, Noct hardly ever looks his way. Mostly he gazes off into the distance, eyebrows drawn, the crease between them like a cut of a knife.

Like right now.

They’re making their way back after the evening show at the Arena. It’s already late, but the city is lively as ever. Against the bustling sounds and bright lights, Noct is a pause in the universe; a silent black silhouette cut out in the plush seat of the gondola.

Prompto studies his soft profile: the wispy hair falling over his forehead, the sharp slope of his nose, the full pale lips. Noct has very nice lips. Prompto wonders idly what they would look like if he ever smiled.

He wants to see it. Somehow, he has to make it happen.

The thought is sudden, but it feels right. Prompto sits up straighter, electrified with purpose. There’s one way that comes to mind, and he might as well start working on it right away.

“I was just thinking,” he starts, looking innocently round his group. “Do you guys like sweets?”

“Yeah, every now and then.” Gladiolus grins. “Especially when Iggy spoils us with his baking.”

So far, so good. Prompto presses on, hopeful. “Then how about some ice cream? There’s a great place nearby, and it’s sure something to experience while you’re here. Altissian gelato is one of a kind, you know!”

“It certainly is famous,” Ignis agrees. “I admit I’m curious, but isn’t it a bit late? It’s not healthy to eat sweets at this hour.”

His tone stirs a long forgotten guilt at the bottom of Prompto’s stomach. He opens his mouth, half-ready to apologize, when Gladiolus rolls his eyes and claps Ignis on the shoulder.

“Come on, Iggy! We’re on vacation, remember? Loosen up a little. Ice cream sounds good – right, Noct?”

“Sure, whatever.” Noct shrugs, eyes still trained on the water.

It’s as much enthusiasm as Prompto has come to expect of him at this point, so he doesn’t let that deter him. Baby steps.

The gondolier lets them out at the next stop. Prompto hops out first to make way for the others. Noct scrambles up after him. The boat wobbles under the shifted weight, and for a moment Noct’s eyes go almost comically wide as he wiggles his arms to catch balance.

“Careful there.” Prompto reaches out, his knees wobbling too when Noct grips his hand and leans on him.

They nearly crash into each other. Noct steps out of the gondola right into his space, and Prompto can’t even think to move. He feels lightheaded. Like he’d float away if Noct didn’t have a hold on him.

For a moment, Noct’s eyes lose their faraway glaze. He glances down on their linked hands. Prompto lets go quickly, embarrassment tight in his throat. But if Noct realizes what he’s thinking, he doesn’t show it. For how close his face is, it’s unreadable as always.

Prompto would gladly spend the rest of the evening trying to decipher it. But he’s got work to do, so he forces himself to snap out of it, brushes past Noct and starts to lead the way.

Technically, the place he takes them to is almost a historic site. It’s one of the oldest gelaterias in the city, with an impressive gallery of famous patrons from the last eight decades proudly displayed on the walls. Prompto remembers these photos fondly from all the (too many) times he’s come here since he was a kid. The nice older lady behind the counter remembers him well, too. It takes little to get her talking, and she eagerly shares her knowledge of traditional ice-cream making as the group marvels at the selection of flavours.

“Trouble choosing?” Prompto sidles up to Noct while Ignis and Gladiolus place their orders. Noct doesn’t bother to look up – just glances at his reflection in the glass display.

“Kind of. I’m not into sweets that much,” he admits. “What do _you_ like?”

Now he turns to him, and it’s so unexpected that Prompto freezes on the spot.

“Well— It’s hard to pick,” he stammers. Noct’s piercing blue eyes don’t relent. “Uh, white chocolate is really good.”

“All right.” Noct shuffles towards the register and repeats the order. The cone he gets nearly overflows with thick, creamy goodness. Noct gives it a long look, like it’s a rare flower or a particularly tricky puzzle to solve.

And then, he all but thrusts it into Prompto’s hands.

“What?” Prompto blinks at him, dazed.

“I said I’m not a fan of sweets, right?” Noct looks away and turns around, heading to the table his friends have picked.

“Not going to give it a try?” Ignis asks, carefully stabbing at his gelato with a small plastic spoon.

“I’ll just sample from you.” Not waiting for Ignis’s reaction, Noct rounds behind him and takes a sweeping lick of his cone. Then he plops down on the opposite chair, leaning back with a challenging look on his face.

He doesn’t look so distant now with a pink blob of ice cream on the tip of his nose.

* * *

The observation deck on top of the bell tower is a staple of every trip. And with every trip, Prompto hates it a little more.

It's not even a proper deck -- more like a narrow balcony that circles the spire, with a perfectly clear view of the city sprawling hundreds of dizzying meters below. Prompto clenches his fingers on the railing, even as the heated metal nearly burns his skin. He’s been here a hundred times. He should be used to this height by now. He should get over it. Instead, it still takes all his willpower to make himself look down.

So he doesn’t. He steps as far back as the small space allows, and glues himself to the wall as his group files out from the narrow staircase to join him. Noct pauses in the doorway, blinking against the sun and the glimmering water. Ignis and Gladiolus follow close behind him. The latter is wincing and rubbing at his forehead. Despite ample warnings, Prompto has heard him bang his head on the low ceiling at least four times.

“Who the hell did they build this for?” he grumbles.

Ignis gives him a sympathetic look. “I believe people rarely reached your height a few centuries back.”

“They still don’t,” Noct snickers.

Prompto bites down the smile twitching on his lips. It still gets him by surprise every time Noct cracks a joke. This unexpected dry sense of humour seems oddly fitting for him. Prompto finds it hilarious – but he’s not sure it’s polite to burst out laughing when one of his clients is roasting another.

“Well, you’re not wrong,” he says instead. “People used to be shorter and slimmer on average. But that’s not really why they built everything so small. Most buildings in Altissia look this way because there wasn’t much space to build on.” He gestures down, where the Old Quarter rises from the bay in a labyrinthine tangle of stairways and bridges. “You can see how close they’re all crammed together. That’s why the city has so many levels, too – they built the streets in layers to make more room where the land wasn’t enough.”

“Ingenious,” Ignis hums. “And impressive, to design and construct such a complex structure in these challenging conditions.”

“I know, right?” Prompto nods, beaming with local pride. “And they didn’t even have the technology we have. The first foundations were just a bunch of wooden posts. Don’t worry, they’ve been reinforced over the years! But a lot of the original stuff is still under the Arena and in the Ministerial Quarter.”

He waves towards the west, barely glancing at the streets down below. He knows the city layout like the back of his hand; he could point out all the main landmarks with his eyes closed. Hell, maybe that would be easier. But as he turns away from the railing, Noct is right in front of him, hair swept back in the breeze, and Prompto knows he wouldn’t miss this view for the world.

“It looks like something out of Assassin’s Creed,” Noct says. It’s loud enough to hear even through the whistle of the wind, but Prompto almost can’t believe his own ears. Because no way this cool, amazing guy could also be a nerd like him, right?

“It sure does!” he catches on, his chest fluttering; he’s not sure if it’s excitement for his favourite game, or for Noct knowing it. “One of the locations in the sequel was actually based on Altissia.”

“Seriously?” Noct’s head snaps his way, deep blue eyes sparkling like the sun-kissed sea behind him. “The sequel was the best. I thought it looked familiar! Wasn’t this place one of the viewpoints?”

He leans out, craning his neck over the railing, and Prompto’s hammering heart nearly leaps out through his throat. He takes a shaky step forward and reaches out to tug at Noct’s shirt.

“Yeah, dude,” he croaks. “No haystacks down there, though, so be careful.”

Noct actually snorts at that. He pulls back, but keeps studying the view with a wistful look on his face. “Damn, those rooftops seem so close. How cool would it be to run around there?”

Ignis clears his throat. “I don’t think the local Heritage Department would appreciate that.”

“True, they don’t like that,” Prompto agrees sheepishly. “But if you ask me, it’s a total waste. I mean, just look at this stonework! All those ornaments poking out… It’s like it’s _made_ for climbing.”

“Bet there are some idiots who tried,” Gladiolus huffs, running his hand over the intricate limestone lace carved along the balustrade.

“Man, imagine a con here,” Noct sighs. “Like that festival in Lestallum. That would be sick.”

Prompto’s head all but swivels around.

“You’ve been there?” _No way. This guy can't possibly get any cooler. That’s just unfair_.

“Yep.” Noct’s smirk is brief, but as smug as they get. “I did cosplay and all.”

Prompto thinks he might be a little in love.

“I want to go there too someday,” he says, though the longing in his voice is less for the city across the continent and more for the guy right in front of him.

“You should,” Noct says quickly. “Lestallum’s great. Not as awesome as here, but I could see it as a setting. Lots of good places to hide with all those pipes.”

“Maybe in the next installment,” Prompto muses. “I’ve heard they were going with something industrial-heavy.” He wasn’t too stoked about that, but now that Noct mentions it, suddenly it doesn’t sound half bad. It would be even better if they could play it together sometime. But there’s no way he could suggest that, so instead he steers safely away from the topic. “And what about Insomnia? You think it would make a good place for the Assassins?”

“Nah, not really,” Noct says, with the confidence of a man who’s given it a lot of thought before. “Too much open space. And you can’t sneak up on people from the top of skyscrapers.”

“True,” Prompto sighs. “But on the other hand, the Citadel would be a mean viewpoint.”

Noct makes a face. “No way you could climb it. It’s all glass and smooth polished stone. Trust me, I’ve-- I’ve had a good look. But I guess… you could take the elevator.”

Prompto likes this idea. His imagination takes a leap, nose-diving straight into the gutter: being locked up with Noct in just a few square meters of chrome and dark wood, gentle music in the background as they ride all by themselves through a hundred floors. There has to be at least a hundred, right? His head starts to spin, and it has nothing to do with the height, real or imagined.

“Yeah,” he stammers. His knees go soft, like they’re made of cotton – maybe the same that suddenly fills his brain and mouth. “Uh, sorry, I need to— I’ll be inside when you guys are done here.”

He ducks into the staircase, narrowly missing the edge of the spiral steps. Even out of the sun, his face still feels unbearably hot. Prompto closes his eyes and slumps down the wall, grounding himself against the cold stone. _That’s right. Cool off. Chill out. Breathe_.

“You okay?”

Prompto’s eyes snap open. His vision crawls with red and green dots, but behind them there’s Noct -- a black shape against the darkness. His face seems to glow like a pale moon when he leans over, waving his hand in front of Prompto’s face.

“Yeah,” Prompto replies weakly. “Sorry. Not a fan of heights.” He pulls himself up, trying to look marginally less pathetic. A tall order while Noct is hovering this close. “I’ll be fine in a minute. You can go back. Enjoy the view.”

“I like the view from here.” Noct shrugs. His shoulder brushes against Prompto’s, firm and warm from the sun.

He sounds like he’s smiling, but it’s too dark to tell for sure.

* * *

The merchant quarter is bustling with life just as always. Prompto likes to think it hasn’t really changed that much over the centuries; that when he looks at the crowded square swirling with colours and smells, he can get a feel for what it was like in the old days. Except now the market obviously offers a much wider range of products. There’s everything in here, from traditional crafts to local food, and even a few shops with gaudy mass-produced tourist junk, tastefully hidden in the shadow of the surrounding arcades.

Ahead of him, Ignis and Gladiolus are already busy browsing, slowly making their way down the narrow aisle between the stalls. Prompto is tempted to do the same. Whenever he comes here, his eyes keep drifting to the bright paintings, pottery and seashell trinkets that the islands are known for. It’s all useless stuff he can’t waste his money on, but it’s always pretty to look at.

He can’t indulge himself on the job, though – not even with his group seemingly doing fine left to their own devices. So instead of following them deeper in, he weaves through the crowd and heads to the edge of the market, where the plaza turns into a set of wide stairs that dip into the canal

Noct is there, sitting all alone at the bottom. His eyes are fixed on the waves, but his gaze is distant, like he’s looking at something way beyond the greenish depth. The crease between his eyebrows is there again, a stray ripple on clear water that gives away the storm brewing under the surface.

Prompto hates to see him like this, but he does his best to hold his tongue. Whatever’s been bothering Noct all this time, there’s probably nothing he can do, and it’s not his place to pry into his client’s personal business.

He wishes it _was_ his place, though. He wishes he had the right to ask and the means to help. He wishes he could offer Noct something better than his lame attempts to cheer him up with nerdy jokes and nice views.

But that’s all he’s got, so he might as well make the most of it.

Prompto skips down the steps and crouches next to Noct, not too close, but just enough to make him look up.

“Man, they even have glow-in-the-dark Leviathan keychains over there,” he says, half to Noct and half to the lazy waters before them. “Just when I thought I’ve seen everything. You sure you don’t wanna take a look around?”

Noct shakes his head with a grimace. “I’m not much of a souvenir guy.”

_Of course_ this crap wouldn’t be his style. Prompto feels a bit stupid. But he’s not giving up yet.

“Yeah, it’s hard to find something really good. But weird things make the best gifts, you know? Maybe you could get them for someone else? Like – for family? Or a girlfriend?”

His mouth snaps shut in an instant. He’s been racking his brain for so long to figure out how to gently poke at this subject, and now he’s just spilled it without thinking. _Smooth, Prompto. Really subtle_.

Noct just shrugs, though. “I’ve already got something for my dad. And I don’t have a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend.”

His eyes dart to the passing gondola, then back to Prompto, and they’re _blinding_ blue.

“Oh.” Prompto feels a dangerous lightness bubbling in his stomach. “That’s… good. I mean, because this is one of the most romantic places in the world, right? So it would be sad if your boyfriend – or girlfriend – wasn’t here with you… If you had one. But I guess if you had one, you’d have taken them with you. Cause that’d make sense.”

He deflates under Noct’s amused stare. That brief flash of hope sputters out as he tries not to cringe. But if Noct agrees that he’s making an idiot out of himself, he doesn’t show it.

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I guess it really is romantic. And beautiful. I’m glad you’re showing us the city and not dragging us through some musty museums. Seriously, I’ve seen enough of those back home to last me a lifetime.”

“Well, lucky for you, we don’t have a lot of them anyway.” Prompto smiles, relieved to actually know what he’s talking about again. “There are a couple of art galleries and the maritime museum, but that’s about it. And nothing you’ll find in there compares to the stuff outside. The best thing about this city is the architecture. And the water. But I guess they kind of go hand in hand.”

Noct nods as he follows Prompto’s gaze across the canal.

“The water’s what sold this place to me. But honestly, I didn’t expect… this.” He slips his hand in the lapping waves and swirls,. “When Ignis suggested vacation by the ocean, I was hoping for a nice fishing trip. Figures he’d pick the one place where I can’t do that.”

Prompto blinks, looking up to meet his longing eyes. “Who says you can’t?”

“Well, I don’t know, all those _No Fishing_ signs I keep seeing everywhere?” Sparkling droplets splash all around as Noct waves at one such sign right next to him. He’s pouting. It looks adorable. And Prompto can’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, dude, that’d be like playing ball on the highway,” he says. “Of course you can’t just sit wherever you want with a rod and poke people’s eyes out when they pass in the gondola! That’s why we have designated fishing spots off the main canals.”

Noct’s face _lights up_ like a supernova. He springs to his feet and pulls Prompto in by the shoulders with an imploring gaze.

“Can you show me?”

_Can he?_ Astrals, Prompto would fling himself straight into the canal if Noct asked him to. 

He barely finds it in himself to tear his eyes away, glancing hesitantly towards the market. “Like, right now? But—I can’t just leave the rest of the group…”

“They’ll be fine.” Noct yanks his phone from his pocket and types furiously for a bit, then shoves it back in. “There, I texted them. We’ll meet up here later, now let’s go!”

Prompto lets out a sigh, stills the butterflies in his stomach, and goes to hail a boat for them.

Noct gets in on much steadier feet than he used to. He still grabs onto Prompto’s hand anyway. Then he plops down right next to him on the plush seat, and the rocking waves roll them even closer as the gondola slowly starts to move. Prompto’s heart nearly leaps out of his chest the whole way. It’s a short ride, and by the time they disembark, he’s not sure if he’s thankful for that or not.

He can practically see Noct vibrating with anticipation, so he decides to take a shortcut and lead them through the docks and back alleys. It’s not a route he would ever plan for his clients; his boss will give him an earful if he ever finds out; but the grin that splits Noct’s face three minutes later is more than worth it.

The spot he’s picked is tucked away from the main streets, quiet save for the gentle splashes of water against the stone pier. The bay spreads open before them, gleaming like molten gold in the late afternoon sun. It’s almost romantic.

“Perfect”. Noct comes up to the very edge of the pier, rolling his shoulders as he takes in the view. Prompto opens his mouth to ask if he’s got his fishing gear with him; should they pop back to the hotel now to get it? Or they could come here again in the evening—

Then Noct flicks his hand, and in a flash of blue light a fishing rod appears out of nowhere in his grip.

Prompto stares at it. Noct stares at it, too. Then he looks up and stares at Prompto, like a cat caught over a shredded roll of toilet paper.

Prompto blinks, still gaping. He’s never seen this magic with his own eyes, but he knows what it is, obviously. Everyone across Eos knows about the power of the Crystal. Maybe it doesn’t make the news, but it’s popped up in history books over and over and over. And being good at history is kind of his job.

“Oh shit. I’ve kidnapped the prince of Lucis.”

And cursed in front of him, but right now, that’s the least of his worries.

Across the pier, Noctis Lucis Caelum smiles with the corner of his lips and shrugs with one shoulder.

“Relax. If it makes you feel better, you can say you’re just carrying out royal orders.”

That does make it better. Prompto’s shoulders slump in relief. He leans against the wall, eyes darting between the prince and the mossy slabs under his feet. Now that he knows it’s _the prince_ , it makes him even more nervous to look at him. He doesn’t want to be caught staring like an insolent commoner and provoke royal ire or something.

Except Noctis doesn’t really seem irate… or royal, for that matter. When Prompto hazards a glance, he still sees the same guy he’s been dragging all over the city. The same one he’s been joking and nerding out with. Just a regular guy. And just as unsure as him, judging from the way Noctis chews at his lip and rolls the giveaway rod in his hands.

“Might as well use it, you know.” The words leave Prompto’s mouth before he can think better of it.

Noctis gives him a startled laugh, but his face lightens up as soon as he casts the line.

“Yeah, I guess. That’s what we came here for,” he mutters. “It’d better be worth screwing up this whole incognito thing.”

“You don’t have to worry about that! I swear!” Prompto bolts upright at attention, one nervous twitch away from saluting to boot. “I won’t tell anyone. Not a word! Your identity is safe with me-- Your Highness. No, wait, I shouldn’t call you that, then… But I mean no disrespect! Though I’ve kinda been disrespecting you all this time, haven’t I? Uh—”

“Just Noct is fine.” Noct smiles again, brief and wry. “See, that’s what I liked about this. People not making a fuss for once.”

Prompto nods stiffly. “Got it. No fuss. That’s… actually easier. I mean, I don’t know anything about royal protocols and stuff, and I can’t even _spell_ etiquette... I’m just a normal dude.”

“That’s all I want.” Noct shrugs. “I like you this way. And I like being normal with you. _Feeling_ normal. I can’t remember last time I had a casual talk with someone. Well, except Ignis and Gladio, but… they don’t really make it easy to forget I’m royalty, either.”

“I didn’t think about that,” Prompto admits. “I guess being a prince is a full-time job, huh? No wonder you need a break. Must be nice to escape all that pressure.”

Noct rolls his eyes.

“It’s not much of an escape. They still expect me to _learn_ something here. Expand my horizons and all that. I bet Specs has a whole exam ready for me when we get back. But at least… You made it more fun. More like a real vacation.”

There’s a softness in his face as he looks away, squinting into the remains of the sun.

Prompto wants to reply -- to tell him how much he wanted to do just that, how he’s never had a better time at this job. But the words won’t come. Something tingles in his throat. His mouth is dry. His tongue itches. His heart is thrashing in his chest, fluttery and frantic—

Like the colourful float at the end of Noct’s line.

“Um.” Prompto nods that way and strains to get his voice back. “I’m not a fishing expert, but I think you got a bite?”

Noctis swears and scrambles to his feet.

His body arches back, lean and strong, as he yanks the rod and starts reeling. His eyes are focused and fierce -- the look of a leader riding into the heat of the battle. Prompto always thought fishing was pretty boring, but right now, Noct makes it look epic and exciting.

Or maybe it’s just that everything about Noct is exciting.

He watches this tug-of-war with bated breath for the next few minutes. It’s hard to tell who’s winning. The float is drifting closer bit by bit, but Noct seems to struggle pulling it in. He’s already toeing the edge of the pier, hovering right over the water. It’s like he hasn’t even noticed. The aura of concentration is so thick around him that Prompto would swear he could step on thin air in this moment.

And just then, Noctis’s foot slips an inch too far, and it turns out he actually can’t.

Prompto lunges forward on sheer instinct. His arms wrap around Noct’s waist before he can even _think_. And then he can’t think at all, because Noct is pressed up against him, leaning on him with all of his weight. For all the distracting firm muscles, he’s surprisingly light. That’s the only reason Prompto doesn’t drop him as soon as his brain goes offline.

Somehow, he hauls them both upright and away from the edge. Noct stumbles after him, stepping on his toes twice before he regains his footing. Prompto squeezes his hips to steady him. The jolt that pierces his stomach at the touch is sobering. He lets his hands drop, limp at his sides and still itching for the lost contact.

Noct turns around. His face is just a breath apart from Prompto’s. But he doesn’t step back.

“Nice reflexes,” he says.

“Well, you know.” Now that his hands aren’t full of falling prince, Prompto doesn’t quite know what to do with them. He picks at his nails, staring down intently. “All those quick time events finally paid off.”

“We really have to play together sometime.”

The hope in Noct’s voice is almost painfully familiar. Prompto looks up to meet his eyes and finds them _open_ like never before, all the way through. They’re full of the same cautious wonder that coils in his stomach.

“Hope you’re a better gamer than a fisherman,” he risks.

“Shut up.” Noctis punches him lightly in the shoulder. His face shifts, tenses. “Seriously, though… Thanks. For everything.”

The gaze he fixes on Prompto could melt the ice of the Ghorovas Rift.

They’ve been staring at each other long enough to make it awkward. But it’s not. Just a little hard to breathe. Prompto swallows the thick air, watching his reflection in Noct’s dilated pupils.

He can see it clearly as Noct’s face comes even closer, until it’s too close to see anything.

Noct’s lips flutter against his cheek. It’s light and quick, as if he’s only imagined it. But when Noct pulls away, the hazy panic in his expression tells him it’s real enough.

It’s also not nearly _enough_.

Prompto leans in slowly. He thinks, briefly, that maybe he should be more nervous than this. This feels too right. But also – perfect. And Noct must feel the same, because the tension in his body thaws as soon as they touch.

When their lips press together, he feels Noct smile into the kiss.

It’s his brightest smile yet.

* * *

For the rest of the trip, neither of them breathes a word about it. They have better things to talk about -- games and comics and favourite food, and a billion other bits of daily life that they somehow have in common, even though their lives couldn’t be more different. There’s too much to squeeze into those scarce few days they have left.

And yet they barely speak when Prompto comes to see the group off on the last evening.

He almost wishes he could skip out on this. His stomach is in knots, and it’s so much worse than back on that first morning. But he has to see things through to the very end. As much as he hates that, goodbyes are part of his job.

Besides, he wants to see Noct one last time, even if it hurts like hell.

He tries to be brief, because there’s no telling when he’s gonna lose it. The chilly wind doesn’t entice to stand around for too long, anyway. They’re all wrapped up tight in their jackets and shivering as they exchange their courtesies and farewells. There’s a light drizzle in the air, putting up a milky mist over the docks. Just a few more days and summer will be gone for good.

Prompto wipes the pesky droplets from his eyes, wishes everyone a safe journey, and turns to go.

He’s barely halfway up the dock when heavy footsteps thud on the planks behind him. There’s a hand on his shoulder, spinning him around, and then he’s face to face with Noctis, jacket flying open and damp hair plastered to his forehead.

“Wait,” Noct breathes. “I almost forgot. Here.”

He thrusts something into Prompto’s hand, squeezing his fingers a second longer than he has to, and jogs back to the ferry.

Prompto stares after him, peering through the rain and dusk until he boards, until the ferry casts off and slips from the canal into the open water. Then he finally looks down at the piece of paper in his grasp.

His feedback card.

It has a five star rating marked in every category, and an Insomnian phone number scrawled hastily on the back. Prompto saves it to his phone with a wide grin, the empty pull in his stomach easing at once.

He loves his job.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, and many thanks to the minibang mods for organizing this event!  
> Come say hi on [twitter](https://twitter.com/Err_417) :D


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